Page 6 of Accidentally Ever After
Something sparked in his eyes. “Then I shall consider myself privileged when you choose to share your form fully with me.”
The way he said it—like it was a foregone conclusion that eventually I’d be naked with him—sent an unwelcome jolt of heat through my body.
“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Your Highness,” I said, trying to sound unaffected. “I’m still working on the not-turning-into-a-toad plan.”
“Caelen,” he corrected. “When we are alone, please use my name.”
“Caelen,” I repeated, and something shifted in his expression—a softening around the eyes, a slight parting of lips.
Suddenly, one of the silent servants appeared at his side, whispering something in his ear. His expression hardened.
“I apologize,” he said, rising. “Court business requires my attention. Please, enjoy the rest of your meal and the amenities of the palace.” He hesitated, then added, “I hope tomorrow might bring us closer to understanding.”
After he left, I finished my wine and wandered back to my rooms, my head spinning with everything I’d learned. Magic bonds, soul compatibility, and a fairy prince who looked at me like I was a puzzle he was eager to solve.
I was examining the strange, glowing flowers on my balcony when I heard a soft sound behind me. Turning, I found Caelen standing in the doorway that connected our suites.
“I thought you had court business,” I said.
“Resolved more quickly than anticipated,” he replied, stepping onto the balcony. In the moonlight (or whatever passed for moonlight in this realm), his skin had that pearlescent glow, and his wings caught the light in hypnotic patterns.
“I wished to ensure you were settling in adequately,” he added, moving closer.
“As adequately as possible for someone who accidentally married a fairy prince,” I said with a wry smile.
He chuckled, the sound rich and warm. “Your humor is refreshing. The court could use more of it.”
“Glad my existential crisis is entertaining.”
He was beside me now, close enough that I could feel the strange energy that seemed to radiate from his skin. “May I show you something?” he asked.
“Depends on what it is,” I said cautiously.
His lips curved. “Nothing untoward. A view.”
“I’ve already got a pretty amazing view,” I said, gesturing to the landscape below—forests of trees with luminescent leaves, fields that seemed to ripple with light like the surface of water.
“It improves considerably from above,” he said, extending his hand.
I hesitated, then placed my palm against his. His skin was cooler than human temperature but not unpleasantly so, and that same electric tingle I’d felt when his wing brushed me at the wedding passed between us.
“You want to fly?” I asked, suddenly understanding.
“If you are willing.”
I should have said no. It was probably dangerous, definitely intimate, and would literally put me at his mercy. But there was something in his eyes—an earnest desire to share something he loved—that made me nod.
“Okay. But if you drop me, I’m coming back as a ghost to haunt your pointy ears forever.”
He laughed again, and the sound did something warm and liquid to my insides. “I would never drop you, Blake. You are precious cargo.”
Before I could process that statement, he stepped behind me, arms encircling my waist. “I must hold you close,” he murmured, his breath tickling my ear. “For safety.”
His chest pressed against my back, solid and strong. Then his wings extended fully on either side of us—massive, iridescent things that seemed to capture and refract the starlight.
“Ready?” he asked, his lips nearly brushing my ear.
“As I’ll ever be,” I managed, my heart hammering.
